


One Week

by thelilwriter



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Jschlatt is alive A!U
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28599693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilwriter/pseuds/thelilwriter
Summary: Imagine coming across the past president after a major war.Imagine having to spend one week with him along with your buddy's son.Imagine having to deal with all of that stress.A!U where Schlatt turns out to be alive and runs into Technoblade after the official end to L'manburg; Philza is there as well with Ghostbur to try and revive him. Its a bit of a mess ain't it?
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Philza, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, jschlatt & technoblade
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	One Week

Honestly, death wasn’t anything special. 

At least that's what he’s concluded; finding himself in a strange limbo that twisted his mind in ways that he believed only LSD and alcohol could provide. The washed out speckle of greens, reds, blue hues around him caused his eyes to strain as he groaned. Yet the sound did not echo, simply muting him down.

Which was annoying, he wanted to talk. His mouth opened but then paused when he felt the air around him go oppressive. Almost silencing himself as he grasped tightly at his mouth to try and get the taste of it out of his mouth. The black abyss did not shun away its gaze as further and further he found himself spiraling. His douchebaggery chased after him; unable to tell which way was forwards and backwards, he could only stare assumingly upwards. 

It felt like the void. 

Not like he would know, of course not. It's not like he has died before, of course not. 

At least that's what he’s telling himself as the taste of alcohol rubbed his throat raw. Could he sit down and explain his reasons? Probably, easily. Everything was hidden behind a large grin as the sins of his actions tainted his pixel heart. Each lie caused the damn horns pressing against his head to curl further and further. 

They were a bitch to take care of. He knows that. 

It was terrifying, admittedly. Knowing that this was your last life and how hard his shriveled heart thumped. There was a lot he wanted to get done. Mainly get revenge, probably drink some more, at least see what it was like to get Quackity on weed. He thinks that would have been funny. 

Well... at least he can’t be yelled at for another screw up. Which was frustrating, Sure. He fucked over Wilbur and maybe he kinda caused a war, but he couldn’t care less. Not when everyone cashed their ballots in and voted him into the office, and that was the slight scrape in his stomach that made him feel green. Envy that poisoned his veins as he couldn’t wait to come back and scare the shit out of them as a ghost.

Are there ghosts in minecraft? He can’t really settle on that idea. He’s never really seen a ghost before. But also he wouldn’t put it past himself, as, who knows. Herobrine has been rumored amongst all of them, and he joked about the fucker before. Is he God? Schlatt doesn’t know how he feels about that thought. 

His fingers brushed against the gentle sway of the grass. Amber hues shot open before he then shoved himself upwards, his horns taking a chunk of the ground with it. His chest heaved, his hands moving to slide against his suit, feeling the silk tie still perfectly in place. 

“Holy shit.” Typically children scream when they are first released into the wild, but Schlatt finds himself grasping at his face. Fingers brushing against the bone of his horns before curling right against his jawline and mouth. “Holy shit!” Quickly shoving himself off of the dirt and moving to carefully roll his shoulders.

Surrounding him was a new area. No where close at all to the typical spawn point, and he could only raise a brow as he reached into his suit to pull out a handkerchief. “Where the fuck am I?” A clean hand went through his hair as the other shoved the fabric into his back pocket. His eyes flicked upwards to see the sky was slowly shifting hues, from gentle baby blues to bleed into darker smoky tones. Clouds gently drifted across; the gentle sounds of the undead coming back to life. 

Y’know... Typical summer nights. 

A groan festered out of the man, moving to turn towards the nearest tree. His hands curled, and moved to punch against the tree. Lowly, he was mumbling to himself, his eyes narrowing harshly as irritation finally sounded. “What are we gonna do now, tough guy, huh? No place to go, no secret backup base, and it’s not like I wanna crash with Quackity again.” His eyes roll as the log drops into his hands. 

A few minutes of cursing develops as he’s figuring out the crafting table. He was hunched over the wood, sliding it into place before he settled backwards before kicking the table slightly. “C’mon … Fuckin’ work.” It honestly sounded like any father trying to place ikea furniture together; it took the same amount of time as the table bounced against the ground before settling itself together. 

Minecraft magic and all of that shit, did you expect him to be able to explain it? He could barely remember his breakfast this morning... last morning. The morning he was last alive. Probably pure vodka with a hint of pineapple. A way to deflect and state that no, he was stable, and no one really knew him as well as they thought they did. 

A crack of his neck and he’s grumbling as he makes it to the table to make himself a sword. It's shittly made, sticks and woods being settled against one another and taking string to tie the pieces together; taking a step backwards he lets the blade cut through the air. It's lopsided, uneven, but it's the best that he has whilst the sky grows darker and darker. 

“What the fuck am I gonna do?” He groans out, frustration littering across his dark hues as his mouth curled back into a snarl. Everyone in the server basically hated him, that much he was pretty certain of. Tubbo probably wouldn’t want to see him, not to mention he didn’t really do well around kids. He found it funny when they got their shit kicked in, and a weak chuckle festers at the thought. 

Yeah … Yeah, get fucked, Tubbo. It was pretty funny to see Techno blow the entire place up with that weird fucking firework rocket thing. 

But the thought lingers in his head as he pauses. Techno. That was someone he probably could convince to let him back with open arms. It wasn’t like the man had a good moral compass, each day he seemed to switch back and forth with the right price. Schlatt could provide the right price and there was a slight chuckle festering behind his lazy gaze. 

The only issue that was cropping up was the concept that he would have to go and find Techno. Did he bother to actually memorize that? No, of course not. Not when he had a plush and comfy life settled up on L’manburge. Irritation boiled as the sword twirled in his hand as a corpse was stumbling up and towards him. 

Its jaw was cracked open, his arm stretched outwards in front of itself and stumbling towards the businessman. Schlatt takes a look at his sword before rolling his eyes to take a few steps forwards and cuts the beast down. “Do you know where Techno’s place is?” He drawls; his frustrations manifesting with how quickly he was bashing his sword against its skull. It crumpled and collapsed onto the ground, rotting blood splattering across the grass. It swayed in the wind, not bothered. 

Schlatt could only watch with slight annoyance. 

Irritation and frustration festered deep within the world’s crust. With how often blood was shed across the blocks that decorated each bit of land; perhaps there were whispers that encouraged each strike but there was a man behind most of the vicious attacks. And a low sigh festered from his throat as he came stumbling back across vast expanses of cold, snowy land and into his home.

It was an easy fight, shockingly. Perhaps it was the overwhelming amount of dogs that flooded in behind him along with the withers that seemed to speckle the sky more than the stars. He shuffles, settling his coat off towards the side before he moves and leans down to sit against one of the makeshift chairs. 

His arm aches, and he grumbles as he reaches into the chest next to him. Taking a potion and bandages, his head tilts back to drink it whilst Philza steps through the door after him. “Well, I think that went rather well.” He states, the soft chuckle lingering in the air as he places over the left over items from the rather peculiar war. 

“Heh? Oh, yeah. It did.” Techno responds, his gaze shifting down to move the white gauze around his left arm carefully. Carefully he yanks it, tightening it to help the arm settle in place before he rips it off with his teeth. Philza watches with a slight raised brow before he leans up and against the cabin’s wall. 

“Something bothering you?” He pries gently. 

“ … Eh … Not really.” There was a lot. It was a bit overwhelming, the buzzing fight between him and Tommy ringing in his head. It was a headache, and he could feel his shoulders tensing underneath the stress of it all. There was no point for him to spill his heart out in front of Philza, but adrenaline is one hell of a thing. 

“Actually, yeah. I don’t get what Tommy was saying.” Philza watches as Techno pushes himself up with a slight roll of his eyes, playful, gentle smile. 

“Like, what do you mean? I tried to stay out of their way, as I wanted to retire. That's why I built this shack in the middle of nowhere.” Techno shakes slightly, stumbling onto one of his legs but he’s stubborn. Walking back and forth, stalking across the wooden planks. “But they showed up at my house, and they tried to execute me.” 

“Mhm. Well I wouldn’t worry about it. Really did show them what for with the whole …“ Philza brings his hands up and gently makes an exploding sound as his fingers wave. Techno watches before he then chuckles as he fully stands up; he’s careful to not place too much weight on his already struggling leg. 

But he feels the strength coming back carefully with the gentle spirals of unknown magic fluttering around him. He rolls his shoulders before he walks over to a chest and dumps the rest of the items he doesn’t really need on him. “I think I’m gonna take a walk … You gonna make sure your farm isn’t ugly when I come back?”

“Eh, I’ll try.” Philza laughs a bit before he hands Techno back the totem. “Here, take this with you … just in case.” In which, he thanks him before he heads towards the door and pauses. His eyes flicked over and towards Philza as he then drawls. “You’re not gonna betray me next because I did your dirty work … right?” A brow raises behind the skull in which Philza laughs and shakes his head. 

“Why would I?” 

Techno pauses before he grasps at his coat and closes the door behind him. 

Outside, snow was falling gently against the streaking skies of black and navy. The white flecks move and sway with the wind, ruffling up the coat and chilling him to his core. It didn’t bother him, not when he crushed everyone underneath him. Would he call himself a tyrant? No. He didn’t really ask for the war. 

Hell, he barely had any time to get everything together. Perhaps there was a slight flicker of fear that curled around his throat. He knew realistically, he couldn’t trust Dream. It was a bit strange having him fight the entire crowd by himself, and there was the lingering thought that he was going to be backstabbed. Not that he wouldn’t be prepared about it. 

He was just glad it didn’t result in it. 

Techno wanders out of his home and makes a sharp left, passing the building Ghostbur had been making. He didn’t mind it, but he didn’t want to be around anything currently. Too many connections, too many loose ends. Everyone seemed to have a bleeding heart that needed to be fixed, and often they would turn to him to take care of it. It all didn’t make much sense to him, it was never his forte.

What made sense to him was the weapons strapped to his body and the undead that started to walk among the earth.

A slow careful inhale as he watches one twist its head towards him and make its rather slow walk to him. The sword slices twice in the air and it falls over, trembling and shaking. He chuckled, before he pushed on further and further into the forest. He probably should go and get the dogs underneath the crumbling layers of L'manburg, but his apathy overwhelms the thought of actually doing it. 

Technoblade was tired.

The snow cakes his boots as each crush of it alerts everything nearby that he was there. The fights that he had are barely scrapes that only give him more experience; his armor started to slowly mend itself. It's growing rather boring as he finds himself into the heart of the forest and into a clearing. 

His gaze shifts back to see the barely lit area. There is the slight idea that maybe he should go back home, but then pauses as his eye catches something a bit … unusual. 

There was a crafting table set up. 

Now, Techno wasn’t a paranoid person, not at all. But the thoughts that came racing into his head could be counted as a bit outlandish. Dream could have finally built his home, and it was nearby to keep a close eye on him. Maybe Tommy was actually wising up and wanted to get a headstart on the whole revenge scheme; As that's what governments would crop up. Assassinations, wars, anything to just get back some revenge on someone who screwed you over. 

“Alright, Who’s out here?” The hybrid calls out, his pig-like ears twitching when he hears a sound, causing him to twist on his heel to look for it. All he can see is a sea of black as the trees block out the moonlight. “ … I won’t kill you as long as you don’t support any government.” The sword is replaced with his new axe, unnamed, as it twirls between his fingertips. 

A long pause. 

“ … Yeahhhh, Fuck the government, amm’I right?” 

Techno … paused. That couldn’t be who he thought it was. Slowly his head tilted up as one of his hands reached up to keep his crown on straight. There, right up and within the trees. It was a tiny form, his hands wrapped around the branches as a wooden sword was dropped from his hands. Amber eyes were glowing in the darkness as a chuckle festered up. 

“Hey, Technoblade, buddy… Y’mind helpin’ me down from here?”

“ … Why.” 

“What do you mean WHY?” He asks, his legs kicking in the air as he’s attempting to get himself down. But Schlatt doesn’t want to drop down, not when there are mobs hiding. The sound of an enderman has him scrambling fully back to hug the tree as his goat ears flick back in annoyance. “I’m J-motherfuckin’-Schlatt. I pissed off an enderman-- You owe me for backstabbing me!” 

“ I have been completely and utterly honest with you … I didn’t backstab you. I was just against the government from the beginning and I decided to not tell you until you found out at The Red Festival. You understand, yeah?” He pauses before he then chuckles to himself. “Yeah. You understand.” 

Jschlatt glares before he then moves, curling up so his stomach was against the branch as he remarks. “Ok, ok, ok … look … I mighta been a bit too hasty.” He trails off, in which Techno blinks behind the mask. Carefully he moves to turn on his foot, aiming to leave in which the goat cries out. 

“Hey- HEY, Hold on a second! Jesus christ, it's like talking to a toddler.” 

Reluctantly, Techno pauses as he glances over his shoulder. “Look, man. I thought you died. Like, everyone thought you died.” 

“Yeah? Good. I didn’t like them; look. All I am asking for is that you let me crash at your place for a week. Just until I get myself back in tip top shape, Ok?” Schlatt attempts to appease the other. Below him suddenly the aforementioned enderman is suddenly there. Screeching and writhing in it’s unpleasant, angered way. Its long arms were reaching up as Shclatt screamed and closed his eyes, shouting. “Oh my god, Just kill it! Kill it! I’ll grind my own shit up, I just don’t wanna fucking permentally die to an enderman!” 

It might just be a miracle that the goat wasn’t locking up and fainting to welcome the sweet release of death.

Techno watches as he weighs the pros and cons in his head. The cons: he would have to deal with Jschlatt for a full week and that already sounds like a headache. The pros: this is suddenly an ace he didn’t have before. A slight smile crept across his face before his grip onto the sword tightened a bit. Yeah, imagine Tubbo’s face on seeing the previous president rise from the grave. 

What a way to cause some more anarchy. 

The blade cuts through the black skin of the enderman quickly, purple ichor from its creator bled openly as it fell. Schlatt opened one eye carefully as he spotted Techno below him with an open hand. 

“Well. C’mon then. This week ain’t gonna start itself.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't used A03 in actual years, so please be gentle. This is just a test to see if people in the fandom would be interested in my concept. Let me know if you enjoy! Insperation came from Barenaked Ladies.


End file.
